


A Mass for Metaphysicians

by banditess



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Hand Jobs, Healer!Ardyn, Lore Speculation, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Game(s), yes you read that pairing right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 20:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10749327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditess/pseuds/banditess
Summary: Ardyn Lucis Caelum, the Healer of Lucis, travels the land with his lover, the Astral Bahamut, cleansing people of the Starscourge. Everything has been going swimmingly, until a day comes when the ritual doesn't go quite as planned. Ardyn's life already took one strange turn -- now it seems it's about to take another...Betrayal only hurts if you care.(AKA: What happens when I think too much about the question "What if Ardyn is so salty about the Crystal/the Astrals because he and Bahamut were ex-boyfriends?")





	A Mass for Metaphysicians

**Author's Note:**

> *waves sheepishly* H-hi everyone...
> 
> I don't really have an explanation for this except that I was listening to [Judith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTgKRCXybSM) by A Perfect Circle and it struck me as a really good Healer!Ardyn song. Of him screaming at Bahamut for betraying him. And then I realized I had to write it. And well, here we are.
> 
> The fic title is from the [Junius song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tv_yKPChhq4) of the same name, which I highly recommend if you are into prog metal. (Also a good Ardyn song!)
> 
> I am playing fast and loose with canon in this, partly because we just don't have enough information about the pre-game stuff, and partly because a lot of the information we do have from the game and the Ultimania, etc., contradicts itself. So...consider this an AU. I'm planning three parts for this but we'll see where it takes me. :)
> 
> Enjoy ~~and please someone come on board this ridiculous ship with me ahahaha~~!!

The first time a townsperson called him “the Savior of Lucis,” Ardyn Lucis Caelum froze for two whole minutes before remembering his manners and thanking the kind woman who had complimented him.  
  
He had been journeying across the land for about six months, give or take, and in that time word of his healing powers was also traveling -- and apparently doing it much faster than he was. Lately, by the time he arrived somewhere, it seemed the entire population had already gotten wind of his impending arrival and turned up at the town entrance to greet him.  
  
Ardyn searched for a familiar face amongst the throngs of people, and found him near the center of the crowd -- a pale, broad-shouldered man with ice-blue eyes in a collared black tunic and slate-gray breeches, his dark hair slicked back into thick tendrils. When the light hit the man just right, Ardyn could see a pair of black, leathery wings extending from his back. The Draconian was always there, keeping close watch over his Chosen One, though he tried his best to remain inconspicuous in the crowds the Healer regularly attracted.  
  
Ardyn smiled at him as their eyes met across the distance, and Bahamut acknowledged him with a nod. Just knowing the Astral was present, even if only in the background, filled Ardyn’s chest with a pleasant warmth, like a glass of cordial on a cold evening.  
  
The visit unfolded much the same as all the others. The townsfolk welcomed him with cheers, pawing at his robes and nearly pulling him off of his large black courser chocobo. The children in each town, he had found, were always especially eager to ask questions about the other places he had visited, curious about the world beyond their walls.  
  
“Have you been to Longwythe yet? What about Galdin Quay? Have you ever seen a behemoth?”  
  
“Six forfend!” he exclaimed, picking one of the smaller children up to carry them, “Should I ever see a behemoth, I hope I am sufficiently far away, else I shan’t have the chance to return here and tell you about it. But Galdin Quay...Well, the Quay is a sight to behold. I pray you should witness it yourself someday.”  
  
Once the children had exhausted their supply of questions (and their answerer), they took him by the hands and lead him to the center of town for an audience with their leader. Ardyn had met with his share of Matriarchs and Mayors, Wardens and Consuls, Elders and Chieftainesses.  
  
This leader was a Matriarch.  
  
“Healer of Lucis,” she said, just as all these leaders did, bowing low and averting their eyes, “We thank you for traveling all this way from the Capital to our humble town. Our people are much in need of succor.”  
  
“Please,” he replied with a grin, as he always did, “a Healer I may be, but I am not one to stand on ceremony. Call me Ardyn.”  
  
Some leaders, uncomfortable with formality themselves, would smile delightedly at this and give a sigh of relief. Others laughed nervously, unsure how to respond to nobility who refused to play the role. This Matriarch was a Smiler. How they responded said much about how they lead their people, Ardyn thought. But he was not there to judge them.  
  
He was there to perform miracles.  
  
After meeting with the Matriarch, he was taken before the townspeople. In every location, those afflicted with the Scourge were lined up in order of greatest need, though Ardyn sometimes found himself disagreeing with how they had determined what precisely _greatest need_ meant -- but again, he was not there to pass judgement. Just to heal. He ran his fingers through his shaggy auburn hair, pushing it out of his face. He rolled up the long sleeves of his black linen robe, and set to work.  
  
Over the past few months, he’d seen hundreds of injuries inflicted by daemons -- raw, red, weeping wounds surrounded by dark, branching marks, as though black oil ran through their veins. That was the most common origin of infection, yet more and more these days it seemed the plague was spreading without such violent intervention. It worried him.  
  
First, he knelt down so that he was of a height with the person to be healed, who was normally seated or lying prone, as they were more often than not too sick to stand. Then he leaned his forehead against theirs, sometimes cradling their face or holding their shoulders gently with his hands. He inhaled deeply, and then, exhaling all the air from his lungs, both he and the afflicted person were enveloped in a soft aura of white light.  
  
What a sight it must have been to the onlookers! The Healer of Lucis, forehead-to-forehead with one of their folk, who may have been on death’s door earlier that very day, wrapped in light. And then, lo and behold, their injury is healed after a few moments’ time. Incredibly, while they may be a bit tired still from their ordeal, the color is returned to their cheeks.  
  
“Truly a miracle!” they shouted, “A blessing from the Gods!”  
  
The townspeople’s joy, their hope, felt like the warmth of the sun on his face. He looked up at the crowd and searched for the Draconian again. There he was, leaning against a tree at the back, his stoic gaze unwavering as he watched Ardyn heal person after person. This time, when Ardyn smirked at him, sweat beading on his brow from the exertion of his work, Bahamut gave just the barest hint of a grin back at him. Ardyn’s heart began to race. He felt silly, like one of the children who had peppered him with questions earlier in the day...but somehow those little grins always gave him enough energy to get him through the rest of the line.  
  
How had he -- a man of noble birth, a Healer by trade -- managed to fall for a _god_? He couldn’t explain it himself, really.  
  
Well, _maybe_ he could.  
  


* * *

  
As the Scourge started to spread across the land, Ardyn began to have recurring dreams of the Astral Bahamut. In these dreams, the Draconian was gigantic, surrounded by a halo of swords, as he was depicted in the old statues.  
  
_Ardyn Lucis Caelum_ , Bahamut intoned, _Become my Champion, my Chosen Healer. Rid this world of the Plague which curses it.  
  
__Why me?_ Ardyn eventually asked in the last of those dreams, when he had managed to find his voice in the dreamworld.  
  
_Most do not question the judgment of the Six_ , said the Draconian sternly.  
  
Ardyn crossed his arms, _I am not most.  
  
_ Bahamut made a deep, rumbling noise. Ardyn shielded his head, thinking it the sound of a god about to smite an insolent mortal --  
  
\-- when the rumbling became the sound of a man’s laughter, and the Healer looked up to find a tall, dark-haired man in a suit of glossy, jet black scale mail armor standing before him.  
  
_Indeed, you are not. This is why I have chosen you, Ardyn. I have watched you for some time and found you worthy of this task. Is that not enough?  
  
_ The handsome man -- Bahamut -- reached out and brushed Ardyn’s cheek with the back of his hand. Ardyn shuddered, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. People so rarely touched him in real life, due to his highborn status. And as a Healer, mostly _he_ was the one touching _others_ , and _certainly_ not in nearly such an... _intimate_ fashion. He hadn’t realized how long it had been, how much he _needed_ it, until the Draconian’s hand was on his cheek, until Ardyn was leaning into it and the Astral was practically _petting_ him, lightly stroking his hair.  
  
Ardyn couldn’t help himself. He moved closer to the Draconian, put his hand over the Astral’s to hold it in place on his cheek. He felt a buzzing energy where their hands made contact, as though Ramuh Himself had charged their touch with his Bolts.  
  
_I will be your Chosen -- under one condition_ , said Ardyn.  
  
_What would you ask of me?_ Bahamut replied.  
  
_Please...keep touching me_.  
  
The Draconian smirked, then cupped Ardyn’s face with both hands. He bent down and kissed him, letting his thumbs brush softly over the Healer’s cheekbones. Ardyn began to go weak at the knees. He kissed back, his tongue grazing Bahamut’s lower lip. The buzzing was getting stronger. Ardyn could feel it in his head, behind his eyelids, like an oncoming storm.  
  
_I shall bestow upon you the power of the Crystal, my Chosen One.  
  
_ Bahamut picked Ardyn up and gently laid him down -- on what, Ardyn couldn’t be sure, as their surroundings in the dreamworld seemed to be an infinite horizon of rainbows and refracted light, like the inside of some sort of _prism_. He blinked his eyes, and when he opened them again both he and Bahamut were magically stripped of their clothing. One of the perks of being seduced by a god, Ardyn supposed.  
  
Ardyn himself was quite fit, though not musclebound by any means -- but goodness, _Bahamut_! The Draconian’s human form was just as impressive as his Astral form: thick, strong arms, a prominent, muscular chest, and rippling abdominal muscles that made Ardyn feel immediately compelled to reach forward to the god kneeling between his legs and run his hand down that beautiful stomach. As he did so, he swiftly noticed that besides the hair atop the Draconian’s head, the rest of him was quite smooth, like well-polished steel. He could almost imagine Bahamut gleaming in sunlight.  
  
Ardyn kept his gaze on Bahamut’s intense blue eyes, but let his hand drift further down. His eyes went wide when he felt the Draconian’s erection, long and hard like one of the Astral’s famed swords.  
  
_I must say I’m surprised_ , said Ardyn, softly dragging a finger along the underside of Bahamut’s shaft. _I was under the impression that the gods were, well, without such equipment...  
  
__We can always change our forms. This particular body is mostly for your benefit_ , the Draconian explained.  
  
_‘Mostly’_?  
  
Bahamut raised an eyebrow and gave him a mischievous grin, _I too can feel pleasure, you know.  
  
_ With that, Bahamut wrapped one large hand around Ardyn’s aching cock and began to slowly stroke. Ardyn leaned back, trying to grip onto something but finding nothing. He eventually settled for putting his hands above his head and holding on to his own arms. Nudging Ardyn into lifting his legs, Bahamut braced one against his chest, and Ardyn instinctively tucked the other around the Draconian’s waist. Ardyn was beginning to softly buck his hips in time with Bahamut’s strokes. Bahamut smiled warmly at him. He brought his unoccupied hand to his mouth and sucked on his own fingers for a moment, letting them trail off of his tongue seductively. Continuing his rhythm, the Draconian reached down with his other hand and deftly inserted one wet finger, then another. Ardyn sucked in a breath, a moan escaping his lips. Apparently Astral saliva was an _excellent_ lubricant. Bahamut kept up his pace for a few minutes, alternating stroking Ardyn’s cock and pumping fingers into his ass. Ardyn began to lose himself somewhere in the space between.  
  
After a time, Ardyn began to beg. _Bahamut..._ please _...I need_ more _…  
  
__As you wish, my Chosen.  
  
_ The Draconian stopped his stroking and removed his fingers carefully. Gently, he grasped Ardyn by the waist and pulled him closer. He placed his cock against Ardyn’s ass and slowly eased it in. Bahamut leaned over Ardyn, bracing himself on his arms, and they both groaned deeply as the Draconian began to thrust into him. Ardyn draped one arm around Bahamut’s neck and went straight back to kissing him, now that his lips were in reach again. He used his other hand to jerk himself off, matching the timing of his strokes to the rhythm of Bahamut’s thrusts.  
  
Bahamut’s pace became more urgent, more _needful_ , and Ardyn found his breaths growing more and more ragged. The buzzing energy he had felt previously was now coursing throughout his whole body, combining with the pleasure building at the base of his spine into a white haze threatening to overtake him completely. He couldn’t hold on any longer. Ardyn dug his fingernails into Bahamut’s back as he came, moaning so loudly the sound seemed to echo infinitely into the void surrounding them. Bahamut came shortly afterwards, making a guttural, growling noise as he climaxed, spurred on by his partner’s pleasure. Ardyn couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aroused. Or the last time he’d been _touched_ like that. He probably would have come again if he’d been capable of it.  
  
Bahamut rolled over next to him and they laid there for a time, looking at one another, catching their breath.  
  
_Well,_ said Ardyn. _I suppose I can now cross ‘make love with an_ actual _god, not just some arsehole who thinks too highly of themselves’ off of my lifetime achievement list.  
  
_ Bahamut did not seem as amused as he was by this. In fact, the Draconian had already re-donned his armor and was standing majestically before Ardyn, a soft white light glowing from behind him.  
  
_Go forth and heal this world’s suffering, Ardyn. I will be watching over you.  
  
_ Ardyn awoke in his room in the Capital, panting, gripping at his sheets. He was drenched in sweat and sticky with his own come. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, feeling decidedly pubescent. He’d just awoken from a _wet dream_ in which the King of Astrals had _fucked_ the Crystal’s power into him. And yet...his whole _being_ felt lighter, somehow.  
  
When he got up to wash himself, he heaved a great sigh. He looked down at his hands in his wash basin and found to his great surprise that they glowed with the same aura that had emanated from Bahamut in his dreams. He knew then that it had all been _real_ , and the Astral had kept his promise. He was the Chosen One, the Draconian’s Champion.  
  
The Healer of Lucis had been traveling ever since, curing people of the Starscourge. Astute observers might have even noticed that in every location the Healer visited, a tall, dark-haired man could also be found, following closely behind.  
  


* * *

  
The last person Ardyn healed that day was a short, delightfully plump young woman around his own age. She’d contracted the Scourge defending herself from an Imp while hunting outside the town walls. The teeth and claw marks in her arm were red and inflamed, the whites of her deep brown eyes jaundice-yellow, her breath coming in shallow wheezes. Her wife, a tall, slight woman with dark hair and eyes the green of sunlit moss, helped bring her forward, gently laying her beloved down before Ardyn with a concerned look on her face.  
  
“I beg of you, Healer,” the hunter’s wife pleaded, “Dena and I...we have a son. He’s only a few months old. I don’t know what he and I would do without her.”  
  
“And what is your name, miss?” asked Ardyn, taking her hands.  
  
“Marin.”  
  
“I swear that I shall take good care of your Dena, Miss Marin.” He smiled and gave her hands a squeeze, then turned to the task at hand.  
  
He knelt beside the young hunter, bowing down low to press his forehead to hers. He took a full, deep breath, and a white glow surrounded them. He felt the healing taking place -- it was a bit like sucking the poison from a snakebite, only on a more _metaphysical_ level. Usually, he felt a little tingly and numb, almost tipsy, as he absorbed the daemons from the afflicted.  
  
This time, as he neared the end of the ritual, something felt _wrong_. As the daemons passed into his body, he had the sensation of a million tiny daggers tearing him apart at the seams. He jerked backwards reflexively at the sudden pain, breaking the connection between himself and the woman, who groaned.  
  
Marin rushed to her wife’s side. “What happened? Is she okay?”  
  
Ardyn held up a placating hand. “She’s fine. I merely encountered some... _resistance_ , I suppose. Have no fear, Miss Marin. I do not intend to surrender at the first sign of trouble, or _any_ sign of trouble, for that matter.”  
  
He leaned forward and began the ritual again. The daemons began to flow into his body…  
  
...and again came a wave of pain, like shards of glass scoring his veins.  
  
He grit his teeth and mentally bore down. He could feel a sheen of cold sweat forming over his whole body as he bit back nausea. There was just a little more to go, if he could just...reach it to pull it out of her…  
  
_There_.  
  
The ritual complete, Ardyn sat up and immediately fell backwards, overwhelmed by pain and spent of his energy. He had only enough left in him to roll onto his side to vomit. He felt someone’s arms beneath him, scooping him up from the ground, and he wondered _who on Eos_ could have been strong enough to carry a tall fellow like him alone. Looking up, he saw the briefest glimpse of a furrowed brow and ice-blue eyes, and realization dawned. He leaned into Bahamut’s chest, and faded swiftly into unconsciousness.  
  


* * *

  
Ardyn Lucis Caelum dreamt of Fire.  
  
His wrists itched, and he tried unsuccessfully to move. He became quickly aware that the two issues were connected: It seemed he was shackled, suspended from the ceiling in some sort of dungeon. Flames raged in a pit beneath him, licking at his toes.  
  
“Hello?” Ardyn called out, struggling against his bonds, causing him to swing to and fro like a pendulum. “Is anybody there? I believe there may have been some sort of _misunderstanding_!”  
  
“Ha!” a gravelly, masculine voice echoed off of the walls of the chamber. “Looks like you’re stuck in a _hot spot_.”  
  
Ardyn looked down and could just barely make out a figure beneath him, in a corner of the dungeon. And were those _horns_ atop its head?  
  
“I shouldn’t _be_ here, I’ve not done anything wrong!” said Ardyn, continuing to squirm. The flames were reaching higher and higher up his legs, singeing the hair on his shins. “ _Please_ , get me _down_.”  
  
“Hmph,” the horned figure snorted. “Now why would I do that? It’s much more _fun_ to watch you _burn_.”  
  
“Please,” Ardyn begged as the fire began to reach beyond his knees. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had the conscious thought that his flesh ought to be burning at this point, and yet... “You don’t understand -- I am the _Healer of Lucis_! People will _die_ without me! You _must_ let me go!”  
  
Suddenly, the flames beneath him went out like a snuffed candle. There was a sound of chains clinking, and Ardyn fell into the pit below as his shackles gave way. He hit the ground with a _thud_ , the wind going out of his lungs.  
  
The shadowy figure stood at the edge of the pit, looking down at him. It was too dark in the dungeon for Ardyn to make out his face, but he was _certain_ of the horns now -- multiple sets of them, one pair short and thick, curling close to his head like those of a ram, the others long and wickedly twisted, extending backwards behind him.  
  
“So _this_ is the Draconian’s mortal errand-boy,” the horned fellow chuckled. “Interesting.”  
  
“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”  
  
“Oh, nothing, nothing at all. Now run along, _Healer_. I’m sure your _patron_ is wondering where you are.”  
  
As quickly as the flames in the pit had gone out, they sprung back up, higher than before, completely engulfing Ardyn. He screamed as the blaze burned him up, leaving nothing but ashes behind.  
  


* * *

  
Ardyn awoke with a start and bolted upright. He rubbed at his eyes and blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to focus, then took a gander at his surroundings. He was lying in a grand bed in a large room, with a proportionally large, open window where the sunlight came streaming in. Beside the bed was a single chair, and next to the chair was a table, upon which were a tea set and several stacked bowls. _Curious_. Who else had been there besides him?  
  
He realized with some alarm that he was quite naked beneath the thin sheet that covered him. Apparently at some point he been relieved of his robes. As a Healer, it wasn’t as though Ardyn felt much in the way of shame regarding the human form -- he simply hoped he hadn’t done anything embarrassing. Or caused too much trouble. He was starting to think that perhaps he had done both. He sighed.  
  
“You’re awake,” said a deep voice from the chair. Ardyn nearly jumped out of the window in fright -- he could have sworn the chair was previously empty, but it was now occupied by the Draconian.  
  
“ _Shiva’s tits_ , Bahamut! Well, I _had_ been a tad groggy, but now I have been so _thoroughly_ terrified I am _certain_ I shan’t sleep for _at least_ a fortnight. Thank you for that, my dear,” Ardyn gave him a wry smile. He gestured along his bare body, “Do I have you to thank for _this_ as well?”  
  
“Yes. I apologize. It was...easier to clean you without your robes. You have been unconscious for three days. You’ve been convalescing here at the local inn. The innkeeper set you up in the finest room available, as thanks for your service,” he explained, “Do you...recall what happened at the Cleansing?”  
  
Ardyn thought back. It was a little hazy around the edges...but then he remembered: The young huntress and her wife, and the sharp, stabbing pain in his body as he took the daemons from her. He frowned.  
  
“The woman I was healing -- Dena? Has she recovered?” Ardyn asked.  
  
Bahamut nodded. “She and Marin stop by frequently to check on you. They have also assisted me with your care. They even brought soup and tea for the two of us,” he motioned to the bowls and tea set on the table. “I imagine they will come again this evening.”  
  
“This evening, you say? From the look of the sun coming in, it’s about mid-afternoon now, yes?” Ardyn squinted as he looked into the sunlight spilling through the window. “Would you care to join me for a walk? I feel I could use the fresh air and a good stretch, after such a long time asleep.” He yawned dramatically, extending his arms over his head for effect.  
  
The Draconian stood and extended his hand for Ardyn to take. Ardyn threw off his covers, took the proffered hand, and slowly, carefully, rose to his feet. When he was certain he wasn’t about to fall over, he placed his arms around Bahamut’s neck. Ardyn kissed him, just a quick peck at first, but then he pulled himself closer for a deeper kiss. Bahamut wrapped his arms around Ardyn’s torso and held him tight, returning the kiss eagerly. The Astral tasted vaguely of steel -- a soft, metallic tang that reminded Ardyn almost too much of the taste of blood.  
  
“For a time I thought I had lost you,” said Bahamut sadly, “That you were not coming back to me.”  
  
“And so you watched over me for _three whole days_ while I laid unconscious, hmm?”  
  
“You are my Chosen One, Ardyn. I am always watching over you,” he paused a moment, as though for emphasis, “But yes, I did. I even spoon-fed you soup. Which is partly why I removed your robes. It is...more difficult to feed an unconscious man than one would think.”  
  
“Indeed it is,” Ardyn chuckled. “Well, I am grateful for your efforts, darling. Now would you care to give me back those robes? Unless you would _prefer_ your Chosen One expose himself to the whole world while taking an innocent stroll...”  
  


* * *

  
They walked side by side in silence for a time, passing various buildings and waving to the townsfolk.  
  
“I do have one question that has been gnawing at me since I awoke,” said Ardyn, ambling along with his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
Bahamut waited silently for him to ask.  
  
“If I was truly unconscious for so long, why did you not just _heal me yourself_? Surely you would not have let me die?”  
  
The Draconian furrowed his brow. He lowered his voice when he spoke -- lest the general populace suddenly discover one of the Six walked among them, “It was not for lack of wanting, my Chosen. I _could not_ heal you. What has happened to you...it is beyond my power to cure.”  
  
Ardyn stopped dead in his tracks. “ _Beyond_ your power? What precisely does that _mean_ , if I may ask? What on _Eos_ is _more powerful_ than _the King of Astrals_?”  
  
“Ardyn, please,” Bahamut took Ardyn’s hand and held it to his face, kissing his fingers gently. “Come sit with me for a moment.”  
  
The Draconian led him to an alcove nearby, where they found something resembling a rest area. In the rear of the alcove was a marble drinking fountain shaped like Leviathan curled around a large seashell. The fountain seemed to be supplied by the town’s aqueduct system; water flowed into the seashell from a pipe on the roof of the next building over. The white noise of the rushing water provided some privacy for their conversation. Taking a seat on a stone bench beside the fountain, Ardyn caught himself frowning in anticipation of whatever news was about to be delivered unto him.  
  
“It has never _hurt_ before, Bahamut. The Cleansing, I mean. But this time it felt like knives in my blood. Tell me what is happening.”  
  
Bahamut sighed as he sat down next to Ardyn -- a strangely human thing for a god to do, Ardyn thought.  
  
“It’s the Scourge,” said the Draconian matter-of-factly. “Think of yourself as a bathtub-”  
  
“Runs hot and easily fits two people?” Ardyn smiled devilishly.  
  
Bahamut narrowed his ice-blue eyes and pointedly did not respond to Ardyn’s saucy comment. He continued, “As you absorb daemons from others, the basin begins to fill. Up to this point, you’d not taken in enough daemons to have any adverse effects. But now the water level of the basin is nearing the top. It is beginning to spill onto the floor around the tub.”  
  
“And you cannot simply _bail out_ my tub to lower the water level because…?”  
  
“It is beyond my power. The Scourge is Ifrit’s plaything, Ardyn. You know this. And you know how little control I have over it.”  
  
It was Ardyn’s turn to sigh. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.  
  
“If you continue to perform healings, your condition will worsen. You must choose: Stop now and preserve what is left of your health, or keep going at the expense of it.”  
  
Ardyn didn’t mean to raise his voice, and yet somehow he found himself half-yelling. “‘Tisn’t truly a _choice_ , now is it, Bahamut? I am the _Healer of Lucis_. I cannot simply _stop now_ and leave who knows how many _hundreds_ of others to die horribly.”  
  
The Draconian was silent.  
  
Ardyn stood and began pacing back and forth in front of the bench.  
  
“If you would, darling, just answer me this,” he gesticulated dramatically as he spoke, “When you called upon me to be your _Champion_ , when you bestowed upon me the power of the Crystal,” he left the words _when you were fucking me silly_ hanging between them, unspoken, “did you _know_ this would happen? Did you have _any_ idea?”  
  
Bahamut looked him straight in the eyes. “It was one of many possible outcomes.”  
  
Ardyn snatched Bahamut by his tunic collar, gritting his teeth, positively _seething_. If only the Astral weren’t _quite literally_ so _gods-be-damned_ handsome, it would be _so much easier_ to just let his rage loose and _shake_ the Draconian til his wings fell off.  
  
His anger was interrupted by a shout of _Laliho!_ from the main road. Still gripping the Draconian’s shirt, Ardyn looked up to find Marin and Dena walking towards them. Marin held their infant son in a cloth sling tied around her chest.  
  
“Oh my, have we interrupted something? Lovers’ quarrel, maybe?” Marin smiled warmly.  
  
Ardyn blushed slightly. He took a calming breath and released his hold on Bahamut, “Something like that. Nothing we can’t _work out_ , I’m sure.” He gave the Draconian a poignant, we- _will_ -continue-this-conversation-later look before turning to Dena, whose complexion and overall condition were much improved from the last time he had seen her. “I am quite pleased to see you in better health, my lady.”  
  
“Likewise!” she said, putting her hands on her hips, “The whole town’s been worried about you, Healer. We were just so grateful to you for what you’ve done for all of us, but especially for me at the end of the ritual there. Did Drago get any of our homemade soup into you after all that?”  
  
Ardyn blinked, trying to process what she had asked. “ _Drago_ …?”  
  
Bahamut rose from the bench, clearing his throat. “Yes, I did. It took some effort, however. Thank you again for your gift.”  
  
Suddenly it clicked -- Bahamut had taken a name for his alter ego. This was the first time Ardyn had heard it. Then again, Ardyn had always been self-sufficient in his travels and had never required the Draconian’s intervention before this point, so people had never _needed_ to interact with him in this form before. He must have come up with the name on the spot, while Ardyn was unconscious.  
  
Ardyn turned slightly so only the Draconian could see his face. _Drago? Really?_ He mouthed silently at him. The word for _“dragon”_ in the Old Tongue? It was a _bit_ on the nose for an Astral attempting to keep his identity hidden. But who was he to judge? He was but a humble Healer.  
  
The baby boy began to burble in his sling. Marin rocked him slightly as she spoke. “Will you be continuing on with your journey now that you’re feeling better? I suppose we can’t keep you all to ourselves. The Healer of Lucis is surely needed elsewhere.”  
  
“Psh!” Dena interjected. “With all the miracles you performed and the lives you saved, I’d say you’re more than just a Healer. You’ll surely rid this world of the Plague, _Savior_ of Lucis.”  
  
Ardyn paused for a time, letting her words sink in. He had been called many things in his time (not all of them kind), but “savior” was a new one. He wasn’t sure what to think. Certainly, he had brought people back from the brink of death, rescued them from the darkness of the Scourge, healed their wounds and listened to their stories. But at what cost to himself? His heart dropped into his stomach as he looked at Dena, recalling the agony he’d felt while healing her. And apparently it would only be getting worse from here…  
  
Bahamut elbowed him lightly in the side, snapping him back to attention. The ladies were looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for some sort of response.  
  
“Oh. Yes. Forgive me, my mind has yet to fully recover from the exhaustion of the last ritual. I thank you for the compliment, Lady Dena, though I fear you think much too highly of me,” he smiled weakly and gave them a gentlemanly bow from the waist. “Indeed, I must move on. I plan to depart in the morning.”  
  
Marin looked somberly at him, “Well, you’re always welcome here, Healer. Do come back and visit us sometime.”  
  
“I should very much like that,” he replied. “And please -- call me Ardyn.”


End file.
